Road Trip to Kentucky!

Happy Thanksgiving faithful blog-readers!  

This past weekend we took a road trip to visit the SIL and BIL (aka: Mrs. Brown Can Moo) and Miles's little cousin, Gavin, at Ft. Campbell, KY.  Miles was all geared up to have his first real thanksgiving dinner.  

On the way down we stopped across the Ohio River to sample the delights of a local Wendy's establishment.  And Miles had his very first "Kids' Meal."  Not only did he get chicken nuggets, but he also got a Snoopy toy.  Best.day.ever. as far as he's concerned.

And while we had high hopes for Miles's first real thanksgiving dinner, Miles's tummy had other ideas.  The little guy came down with what can only be described as a stomach ailment. Basically, he threw up almost everything given him over a 24 hour period.  Including, in my car.  

So, we've survived our first official sick kid moment.  It was pretty gross.  But Miles is feeling much better now.  Unfortunately (or fortunately for mom and dad) he missed thanksgiving dinner.  Oh well, Christmas is coming.  Maybe he can get some good eats then. 

Here he is with "Bear" enjoying some comfort food (aka: Goldfish).

Because Mr. Miles was not doing much more than "protesting" his meals over the holiday, this is really the only pictures we got over the last few days.  Maw Maw got a few more pics before the illness took over, so hopefully we'll get a copies of those "happier" times. 

Caught in the act and catching up

Time marches on, and apparently my blog doesn't update itself.  So, to recap the last few weeks:

Miles was Brett Favre for Halloween (giving Brett a run for his money in "cuteness" if you ask me).

He's learned out to eat out of a bowl.    

And sometimes decides to use a spoon.

And Miles has started on his Christmas wish-list as he leisurely looks through the Brooks Brothers catalogue.  Further proving the fact that he is my husband's son.  

I finally caught Miles in the act of "walking." 

And after much debate, and heel-digging by mom, we finally decided it was time to give Miles a little trim.

The "hockey-hair" was getting a little bit too pronounced.  

Disclaimer: I am in no way trained to cut hair.  My SIL, she's the pro.  Me, just call me "the butcher."  Personally, I don't think it looks that bad considering the fight Mr. Miles put up over this new experience.  The goal was to get the hair out of his eyes.  And that much was accomplished.   Note the single tear trailing down his cheek.  This was one of many shed during "the butchering."

That's one small step...

Ladies and Gentleman, Miles is officially a "walker." 

Sorry for the lack of pictures.  I was too busy playing "catch the Miles" between myself and Mike as our baby magically turned into a toddler. 

I'll get pics as soon as I can.